16 Minutes
by Norkinator
Summary: There are some things in life that just don't go together. High School and guns being one of them.
1. There's a point we pass from which we ca

A\N: This is super super dark. I don't know what possessed me to write it, or even think about it. It might have been the Grey's Anatomy final, but I digress… Anyways, as you will find out this will be a complete AU because honestly, this would never happen in Glee. I guess it's just interesting trying out different genres with the characters.

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_They were all there for different reasons. Some were fed up. Others were just done with whatever life had given them. But by the end of the day, the four of them would share one thing in common._

_They would all be remembered._

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**Chapter One:**

_There's a point we pass from which we can't return_

It is said that your actions speak louder than your words. Jacob Israel knows this. That's why he keeps multiple blogs, MySpace, and twitter accounts running. The more things he has to say, the greater the chance of someone actually listening to them. But in a social structure that places him at the bottom, how is anything he says ever going to be taken seriously?

William McKinley High School, with its population of over 1,700 students, is no advocate for diversity. The jocks rule the school, while those who are athletically cripple are forced to retreat to the background. He finds it quite cynical that he is in constant terror of a team that shares a name with a breakfast cereal.

Adding injury to insult, he can't even catch the attention of the second least popular girl in school. Rachel Berry's popularity changes so sporadically, it gives him whiplash. One minute, she's dating Noah Puckerman, the next; she's getting a slushy in the face. She's ignored his advances three times now, and it's all for the sake of her image. So finally, it comes down to what Jacob has known all along. If he can't have her, then no one will.

So he steps out of the bathroom cubical and looks at himself in the mirror. For the first time in his life, he feels confident, unafraid. Maybe it's the pot he's gotten from Sandy Ryerson talking, but it doesn't matter. The events that are about to unfold are going to send him into history. People will know his name.

Slowly, he cocks the slide shut on the Smith & Wesson 9mm semi-automatic in his right hand. The gun is heavy, but somehow feels right. In the next moment, he shoulders his backpack full of spare clips that he has gotten on sale from Wall-Mart and heads towards the exit. Heaving a calming breath, he pushes through the boy's restroom door and into the hallway of McKinley High.

With his heart slamming against his ribs, he raises his hand.

For a split second, time marches on as it always has. Lockers shut, conversations continue.

Then there is a sharp intake of breath. He glances briefly to the noise and finds the brown eyes of Quinn Fabray staring back at him. She has outgrown her Cheerios uniform and the hand she instinctively places over her protruding stomach makes him pause. Who is he to end the life of her unborn child?

But then he realizes whose child it is and any remorse he feels is gone. He is empty. Because any child of Puckerman's is going to be hell for future geeks and nobodies. Like father, like daughter. And Jacob remembers all too well what the bottom of the dumpsters look like.

He spies Karofsky to his left, the large footballer eyeing the black handgun with confusion. The idiot probably thinks it's just a fake. Jacob points the barrel with a smile, pulls the trigger and proves the linebacker wrong.

Hell-O McKinley High. Today, Jacob Israel's actions are going to speak louder than any students words ever had.

**-XxX-**

Sue Sylvester was six feet tall and built like a tank. She was the epitome of efficiency. Every Adidas' sneakered step echoed of expertise and ruthless calculation.

She looked to be nudging thirty. There were irremovable lines on her forehead and it seemed as if the purple bags under her eyes had been there forever. However, her blond hair and feminine features did not and perhaps could not eradicate the measured fierceness in her eyes or the grim solitude in her mouth.

Trained in twelve different martial arts, she could identify and disarm ninety percent of the world's firearms in under five seconds flat. She knew how to withstand physical, mental and psychological torture and was taught to bear starvation and sleep deprivation.

Sue Sylvester had seen it all.

At the height of her career, Sue was the best. Every country, every billionaire, every global organization wanted the uncompromising and unyielding safety that she guaranteed. In the most unpromising of situations, in the most deadly of circumstances, if a nuclear bomb were to drop on you in exactly ten seconds time, nine times out of ten, she would find a way out.

Seven years ago, Sue Sylvester retired from the global security scene. Not only was she not in top physical shape anymore, but she was quite simply tired of the unforgiving business she'd worked her entire life in. It was time to retreat into the suburbs. She chose Lima, Ohio, for its quiet, all-American suburban life, leafy streets and crowded parks.

She took on a job at the local High School as head cheerleading coach. She didn't mean to, but when she realized how talented the girls were, she started pushing them like her drill sergeant had herself. Not that it made much difference. Most of the local high school squads sat around preaching that the sport of cheerleading was simply for 'fun' and 'entertainment'. As Sue found out, suburban life was quiet.

What she wanted was to make life worthwhile for the girls. She knew how much getting out of the state meant to some of them, and though she wouldn't openly admit it, she was going to help them any way she could. So she yelled and made their life a living hell. But she knew once they left her, that they would be ready for the real world. After all, they would never encounter a human being more cutthroat than one Sue Sylvester.

But at exactly seven twenty on March the 24th, when the first shot rang out in the hallways of McKinley High, Sue Sylvester knew what was happening before anyone else. Before the screams broke out, before the six tone lockdown protocol sounded over her walkie-talkie, before anyone could even look out their classroom doors to make sure it wasn't a tractor backfiring. Sue Sylvester was under her desk, calling 911 and telling them to bring in backup from all around the state and be down at McKinley High in three minutes, or so help her God, she would call the President personally and they would all be working night shifts at McDonald's before any one of them could say 'hostage situation'.

When she hears the screams and yells come from right outside her door, her cool and composed exterior falters just a tiny bit. She remembers Columbine and when the Virginia Tech massacre made headlines around the world. She remembers the loss of young life that never should have happened.

As an educator, they are trained to handle situations like this. But never in a million years had any one of them thought that it would actually happen. She knows what she's supposed to do. Lock her door and wait for backup. But when the labored panting of a student reaches her ears, she knows what she must do.

Because before she even opens her door, she realizes who it is. She is not surprised to find Quinn Fabray huddled in the nook of a locked janitor's closet just across from her. The blond, who is usually full of so much spunk, is terrified.

Sue takes in the situation instantly. The teen is panting hard. Her left hand is resting on her enormous stomach while her right is grasped tightly around her right calf, blood sliding from between her fingers. Her ex-captain turned Glee club member has been hit by a madman's bullet, Sue realizes, and she tightens her fist to keep from cursing.

"Coach Sylvester," Quinn whispers and surprisingly tries to get up. Sue almost laughs. Even with a torn up leg, her ex-captain still respects her enough to try and stand.

"Don't kill yourself Q." Sue says evenly. In retrospect, it wasn't _quite_ the right thing to say in the current circumstance, but when was she ever worried about what was right to say? The older woman blinks as another gunshot peppers the background and watches as Quinn's shoulders shutter at the sound. Clearing her throat softly, Sue says, "Are you alright?"

She watches Quinn's hand tighten instinctively over the wound in her calf. The young blond sniffs once and swallows, wiping at the wetness running from her eyes. "Yes," she replies with an air of composure unseen for her situation.

"Can you stand?" It is a silly question, but one that needs to be addressed.

Quinn makes a face, places her foot flat on the ground and stands. She pushes up, her back sliding against the wall until she is semi-standing, semi-leaning. Though tears are streaming down her cheeks, there is a blazing defiance flashing behind her brown eyes.

Sue smiles with pride, for Quinn Fabray has just won a small battle against herself. And if Quinn wins, then Sue Sylvester wins.

Taking no time, Sue reaches into her office and pulls out her national's trophy and grips it in her hands. "Get out of here Q."

"Miss. Sylvester," Quinn places a hand against the wall for support. It leaves a bloody print. "What are you—"

The smallest of smiles twitched across Sue Sylvester's lips. "You think delivering that baby is going to be hard?" She eyes Quinn's protruding stomach and for the first time, is completely, and suddenly protective of it. She thinks of what her sister would want her to do in a situation like this, and understands. For even though Quinn semi-deserted her, getting pregnant wasn't in the plans. And even though the blond looked way better in her Cheerios uniform than the loose shirts and pants with elastic waistbands, the teen was still once a Cheerio. So Sue hoists up the nationals trophy like a baseball bat and locks eyes with her former captain. "I'm about to fight for your right to live, Quinn. Now _that's_ going to be hard."

She leaves Quinn Fabray behind and does not look back.

Sue Sylvester is an educator and a head coach. And she'll be dammed if she lets some maniac hurt any one of her students, let alone her Cheerios. But above all else, she is a human being. And it is wrong for kids so young to go through something as terrible as this. So if she can do anything to stop it, then she will.

And that's how Sue sees it.


	2. To give up on your hopes and dreams

A/N: I know, I know, the bad guy introduced in this chapter is pretty unbelievable, but I needed someone with a grudge, and I figured she has a pretty good one lol. Also, my computer came down with a plethora of viruses over the weekend so it is currently at Geek Squad. My next few updates will be some time from now, so I apologize in advance. Anyways, read and review! I love your feedback!

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Chapter Two:**

_To give up on your hopes and dreams_

There are some things in life that just don't go together, no matter how much you want them to. For example, cats and dogs don't mix well at all and neither do lions and antelopes or hamsters and cars. Molly Shuester and class repel each other like two skunks, a lot like Sue Sylvester and sanity or Finn Hudson and ugly. There are just some words or characteristics that you don't associate with a certain object and that's just the way it will always be.

Sushi and mayonnaise.

Antarctica and Global Warming.

Howard Bamboo and intelligence.

Ross and no Rachel.

Terri Schuester and the McKinley High Glee Club.

Terri Schuester and Emma Pillsbury.

Terri Schuester and husbands who don't believe that she is, in fact, an important person and someone who he cares deeply about and so therefore shouldn't be able to divorce because of another woman, let alone a group of bitchy, spoiled children.

Will leaving was the last straw. Something inside her died that day, and she thinks it might have been her heart. So she is completely confident in what she is doing now. For her therapist said that she needs to eliminate the stress in her life, or focus on overcoming the things that tore apart her marriage.

She figures the gun in her hand will help her accomplish both.

Honestly, she doesn't think she would have had the guts to do this if it had been her own idea. But that Jacob Israel kid is one persuasive human being. It seemed like he'd mulled over the thought of shooting up his school for some time. He even had two others joining him before he found her. So this would solve all her problems and she wouldn't be alone. Because being alone is the one thing that has pushed her to doing something like this.

So Terri Shuester takes a deep breath and slides back the hammer on her GP 35. She stands in silence for a moment, wondering if Will ever knew that she had bought a handgun. Right after she found out that she was 'pregnant'. After all, you have to be prepared for anything. A home invasion. A damn good sale at Pottery Barn.

A gunshot that is not her own splits through the silence. Screams follow almost instantly.

_It has begun._

With fierce eyes, Terri Shuester strides out of the girls bathroom and decides that Terri Shuester and a livable life being together is looking more and more likely by the minute.

She just has to get rid of a certain red head.

**-XxX-**

Emma Pillsbury had lost twice before in her life. The first time was when she was eight-years-old and her parents had taken her and her brother to an exclusive Dairy Farm. There were elaborate maze there; built with metal fences and the farmers had boasted that it was the largest holding facility for cows on the East Coast. At the time, Emma had scoffed. Around four hours later, after her brother had pushed her into the runoff lagoon, the scoffing had stopped and as she found herself lost in someone else's world, covered in God knows what, she'd started to cry. It really wasn't the fact that she was lost as in misplaced, but more of the fact that she had lost as in being defeated. And by a _runoff lagoon_, by _germs_, of all things. She cried the entire way back home and insisted that every cousin in the car be covered in plastic wrap. Even after her three showers, she hadn't felt clean.

The second time she lost was two weeks ago. The loss of Will Shuester hit her hard and it wasn't because he was a slut. Emma could've lived with all of that. She _had_ lived with it. She had let him explain and had found out the details, which were less promiscuous than she had originally thought. It was just the fact that she'd lost. That, for only the second time in her life, she could not get what she wanted.

And on March the 24th, Emma Pillsbury got that feeling again as she heard gunshots rock through the halls of William McKinley High School. That deep pit in her stomach, which she sometimes got when she ate a grape that wasn't sufficiently cleaned, the feeling that just expanded until her chest felt like a black hole, was present again. Today, that huge well of horror in her abdomen wasn't germs or any other excess self imagination.

She knows.

As soon as the six tone lockdown procedure sounds from her walkie-talkie, as soon as she hears the screams of _her_ students, as soon as she starts to breathe through her mouth so she can't smell the coppery sent of blood mixed with musty gunpowder, Emma Pillsbury knows.

They've lost.

Except this time, it isn't just Emma Pillsbury singular.

_They've_ lost. William McKinley plural.

They've lost students. Human beings. Friends. Family. _Wolves_.

They've lost their school. Once a place of just _life_ and _youth_, turned into something from a nightmare.

They've lost _heart_.

They've lost _life_.

And the one thing that Emma Pillsbury cannot bear, the one thing she cannot bear to lose, is _hope_.

And as more gunshots pierce the chaos, the hope she has in her heart is gradually being devoured by the growing pit of despair in her stomach. In this moment she feels something inside of her die out.

This isn't High School. This isn't a maze inside Carlie and Marlie's house of Fun.

This is death, and with a sinking realization, Emma Pillsbury knows that they've lost _everything_.

Quickly, without thinking, she shoots from her seat and goes to the door. Students are flying past her office, horror etched across each and every face. There is no time to catch a coherent sentence, call a familiar face to ask _what_ exactly is going on. Emma _knows_ what is happening. Her mind just doesn't _want_ to process it.

In seconds, the number of students flying past seems to grow less and less, until there is nothing. Faintly, Emma hears the sound of her own deep breaths, but is too preoccupied with the distant gunshots to worry about her own wellbeing. She has been told that, in case of emergencies—emergencies like _this_—she is to stay in her room. To lock the door and hide under the desk.

Yes, that seems like the most plausible action…to save her own skin. Her students are being attacked from within and somewhere beneath the despair and horror in her stomach, there is anger bubbling.

Squaring her shoulders and flattening her skirt, Emma Pillsbury takes a step towards the distant gunfire—and comes face to face with Quinn Fabray. She doesn't think she's ever screamed so loud before in her life.

After a moment of deep breaths, she calms the rabbit-like beating of her heart. She directs her gaze towards the girl that has terrified her. Instantly, the guidance counselor knows something is wrong. The ex-cheerios captain is too pale, and her brow is creased in beads of sweat. Granted, escaping a life and death situation with a child in your stomach is no small feat, but Quinn Fabray is completely and utterly _drained_.

Then Emma notices the blood. And she doesn't think she's ever seen a color so red.

Before she can voice a question, she is catching the swaying teen and helping her slide to the ground. It is there, in that close proximity, that she finds the source of the red substance.

Though Quinn has tied her sweater around her right calm, the limb is still producing blood. Emma swallows, and just for good measure asks: "Is that blood?" Because, you know, she could be hallucinating. God, she _hopes_ she's hallucinating.

Quinn rolls her head to look at the guidance counselor and does not answer. She doesn't have to. Emma knows if the teen had had the strength too, she would have rolled her eyes at such a stupid question. Because that's all it was. A stupid question. _Yes, Emma Pillsbury, this really is happening_.

Emma licks her suddenly dry lips. "Uh, right. Stupid question. Sorry." She tries to will her hands to the girls' wounded leg, but they won't budge.

"It's okay," Quinn says in a shallow pant. "I know this kind of stuff…gets under your skin."

Emma shudders. Because the thought of anything under her skin honestly freaks her out. "No," she says firmly. She clenches her hands into fists and then releases. Slowly, she places her palm over Quinn's leg and pushes.

The teen's head jerks slightly, but there is no other reaction. "I appreciate your help," she whispers, "but can we do this somewhere…that _isn't_ out in the open?"

Emma blinks and for a second doesn't answer. She's too transfixed on the sticky wetness growing against her palms. She doesn't think she'll ever get the blood off.

"Miss. Pillsbury!" Quinn snaps suddenly, and her eyes light up with weak urgency.

"Right, right." Emma flicks her head up and looks around. Because of her position, she has keys to almost all of the rooms in the school; so really, they just had to pick one to hide in. "There's an unused classroom just around the corner. Can you stand?"

Quinn nods and is suddenly trying to get to her feet. But she's weaker than she anticipated and reaches out for help. Automatically, Emma places an arm across her back and slips another over her head. She's only faintly aware of Quinn's bloody hand hovering by her face.

"Sorry," the teen says.

"It's okay," Emma replies. "We just need to get you safe. After that, I can go home and take all the showers I want."

To her surprise, Quinn lets out a soft laugh. "So I guess…I won't be seeing you around…for a few days after this then?"

Emma lets out a laugh as well, because her nerves needed it. "I'll be back sometime next week."

It is an awkward walk to the abandoned English classroom, mostly because she has to rest Quinn against the wall so that she can retrieve her keys for her room. When she returns, the blond is sitting on the floor, resting her head back against the wall.

"They're still shooting," Quinn says absently.

Emma's hand freezes inches from the lock. She had let her mind block out the gunshots, but now, they return with booming force. "I can't believe anyone would—" She shakes her head and sticks the key into the lock. "I can't believe anyone would do something like this."

"We know him. The shooter…" Quinn pauses after her confession, scrunching her eyes like she's trying to remember something, but it's slipping through her fingers.

"We know him?" Emma kneels next to the teen. "You mean…?"

"It's Jacob Israel." Quinn answers the hanging question. "He walked out of…the boy's restroom and just…raised the gun. Hit Karofsky first. Don't know if he's…" she trails off and swallows furiously. "He just started firing…" she shrugs weakly. "I ducked, but wasn't fast enough."

"Oh sweety…" Emma doesn't know what to say. None of her pamphlets cover consoling a student after a near death experience.

Quinn swallows and wipes at her eyes. Suddenly, her face lights up and she turns to the guidance counselor. "He asked me something."

Emma shakes her head. "Why would he—?"

"I don't know," Quinn says through shaking lips. "But when I was on the ground…he walked up to me. He looked," she pauses to catch her breath and try to find the right word. "_Sad_," she says finally. "Like he regretted…what he was doing…Then he pointed the gun…at me and asked me where _Rachel Berry_ was."

"What?" Emma stammers. "He's looking for _Rachel_?"

"Who's looking for me?"

The two snap their heads around so fast, their world spins. But no matter how many times they blinked, the person behind them doesn't go away.

Rachel Berry is crouched a few feet away, recent tear stains on her cheeks. "What the _hell_ is going on?" she demands in a shaking voice.

Emma Pillsbury can't answer that. She doesn't know everything there is to know about Jacob Israel, or why he thinks life is bad enough to do something like this. But if there is one thing she does know—that she is _certain_ of—it is that she is not going to lose another one of her students. She will not lose again today.


	3. All because of you

**A\N:** Here's the next one and thanks to everyone who has reviewed! Seriously, you guys make my day. And I thought I might treat you considering the final was last night. I won't say to much about the episode up here, but check down below after the chapter to find out my favorites. Anyways, as always, read and review! If you liked it, tell me! I love reading your feedback.

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**Chapter Three:**

_All because of you_

Lauren Zizes had been called many things in her life. AV nerd. Twilight fangirl. Loser. And so on and so forth. She, along with her co-president of the AV Club Steven Murdock, were burdened with the job of bringing everyday news to McKinley High School. But the truth of the matter was, there wasn't a single person in the place worth informing.

Because all the people at McKinley High were so focused on their self image, that they insisted to belong to a clique. It was quite funny that everyone was afraid to be forgotten, yet they joined a group that strongly catagorized them as the same thing. All the stoners lived and breathed in their high fantasies. The only thing the honor students knew was what they had learned from their precious books. The jocks were, well, _jocks._ They'd either go to college with a scholarship, get rich after thier senior year or drop off the face of the earth after sixteen. The cheerleaders would develop some kind of eating disorder because there was just so much _pressure_ to be pretty and then give that up after they couldn't get into college. They'd get married, have children and forget about the glory days when they used to be top of the food chain.

So really, everyone was the same. A loser. A _Lima Loser_. And every day Lauren Zizes and Steven Murdock are counting down the days till the end of the school year. Because it is a burden to go to a place that doesn't even awknowledge your existence.

So they step out of the adjoining bathrooms near the auditorium and finally realize that this will be their last day at McKinley High. And they can't help but smile.

"Are you ready?" Lauren asks Steven.

The boy in front of her smiles, his emerald eyes shining with excitement. Steven Murdock was attractive, but since he was co-president of the AV Club and a reporter for the school newspaper, he was never considered 'popular'. Lauren had been friends with him since grade school. Once Lauren started struggling with her weight problems she expected him to leave her and look for more, decent, thinner friend. But he stood by her through thick and thin, standing up for her and sharing her anger towards the social structure of McKinley High.

She was not at all surprised to find a darker side to him, which is an example of his current behavior. He flips his chestnut hair out of his eyes and smiles. "It will be an honor to serve in battle with you."

Lauren rolls her eyes and nods, fidgeting with the Jericho 941 F 9 mm in her right hand. It was kind of frightening when Steven showed her the draw under his bed stock full of handguns. His father was a hunter, and Steven had permits for every single weapon. The good state of Ohio will be regretting that fact in about twenty minutes.

"Remember the plan," Steven says as he lifts up the Glock G22 in his right hand and the Glock G21 in his left.

Lauren nods and goes over Jacob Israel's plan in her head. She takes a moment to remember why Jacob is doing this, and can't help but call him unoriginal in his own way. Edward Cullen started a vampire werewolf war all for the sake of Bella Swan; so really, Jacob Israel's desperate need to get Rachel Berry wasn't all that surprising. Though she can't help but shake his creepy last words:

"_If I can't have her, then no one will."_

She never knew the boy had had it in him to make a statement like that, let alone draw up a strategical plan to infiltrate and keep control of McKinley. Each one of them, the Four Horsemen as Steven had so stupidly named them, were to start on the outside of the school and work their way in.

Steven heaves a breath and winks at her. "See you in a bit." And then he is gone. She can hear his footsteps before he lets off a burst from one of his Glock's.

Screams erupt.

Lauren stands in silence for a moment, taking in the chaos and trying to steady her suddenly beating heart. She turns the corner and heads in the opposite direction as Steven. She takes a couple steps and then there are kids spilling out from the hallway in front of her. A few of them are wearing football jerseys and Lauren squares her should and raises her gun.

She pulls the trigger once and nearly drops the weapon. The buck coupled with the deafening sound almost givers her a heart attack. She has never fired a gun before. The sound alone terrifies her.

The group of students scatter and Lauren doesn't know if she's hit any one of them. Quickly, Lauren Zizes slips the gun into the waistband of her jeans and covers the weapon with her shirt.

She turns and dashes away, thinking that maybe this wasn't such a good idea in the first place.

**-XxX-**

It is a peculiar truth of life that people will often say things they don't mean. If, for example, someone asks you how you are, you will automatically respond, "I'm fine, thank you," when in fact you'd just failed an exam. A friend might tell you, "I've looked _everywhere_ for my keys," when you know that, in fact, if they'd looked everywhere for them, then they would've obviously found them.

"_Code red. Code red. This is _not_ a drill. All students and faculty __go to a designated lock-down area or exit the school _immediately_."_

Finn Hudson is not one to take Principal Figgins seriously. After all, how can he respect a man that has a pantyhose YouTube video? He certainly can't mean what he's saying now. This is some kind of drill. Maybe they're on candid camera.

Finn looks around the choir room to each one of his friends, searching for a smile and confidence that the Principals words are as funny as they sound.

No one is smiling.

Mercedes and Kurt have ceased their talk of fashion and are staring at the ceiling intercom in confusion. Mike, Matt, Brittany, and Santana are no longer practicing dance moves in the corner of the room and Artie and Tina have stopped their PDA.

"Code red," Brittany tilts her head to the side and squints her eyes. Turning to Santana, the blond asks, "Does he mean like, Mountain Dew?"

Santana shakes her head slowly and places a hand on her friends arm in comfort, shushing her.

Mr. Shue is no longer trying to dismantle the bulletproof glass that incases Sue Sylvester's Nationals Trophy. Instead, the teacher drops the sheet of glass he has managed to remove and dashes to his desk. When he pulls the bottom drawer open, a sharp, six toned ring splits through the choir room. Mr. Shue's eyes grew so wide, Finn fears they might fall out of his head.

It is in that moment that something inside of Finn sinks. This is not a joke. Or a drill. This is real. And suddenly, he feels very, very alone.

Rachel is not in the choir room. Inside Finn there is a sudden and frantic need to find her. To make sure that she is okay. But before he can take one step towards the door, a girl he faintly recognizes is stumbling through the archway, panting hard.

"Someone has a gun." She says softly and full of fear.

People may often say things that they don't mean, but this, unfortunately, was not one of those times.

Finn is suddenly aware of the distant _pops_ and recognizes them as gunshots. He turns his head slightly over his should and locks eyes with each and every one of his friends. He knows they know what he is about to do, and hopes that they understand. "I'm going to go find her." He addresses his friends.

Most of them stare at him blankly, and it is Kurt who speaks up. "_Are you out of your fucking mind?__" _he whispers furiously, his voice uncharacteristically higher. _"Are you fucking insane?"_

"Don't," Santana demands, taking a stand next to Kurt. She shakes her head, though she already seems to know she isn't going to be listened to. "Don't you dare go and play the hero, Finn."

"That's not what this is." Finn answers, aware that ever second that he is there trying to explain his complicated feelings to them, it is one less second closer to finding Rachel.

"_Then what are you doing?_" It is Mr. Shue's steady question that freezes him. Finn knows the teachers secret (or not so secret) feelings for Miss. Pillsbury. And he knows that Mr. Shue's protective side is going to inevitably win over his romantic side. But that doesn't distract from the fact that Mr. Shue does not know if the woman he loves is alright.

Finn knows that it is this moment that will define who he is, so he turns to Mr. Shue and locks with the man's eyes. "If she dies," he whispers, "then I want to be with her. If I die, I want to be with her. I'm doing this for purely _selfish reasons,_ Mr. Shue; because _I_ want to be with her."

Mr. Shue is speechless for a moment. He does not remember when Finn Hudson had become a man. "Finn," the older man takes a step forward, because he knows that Finn loves Rachel, but this is not the right way to do this. "She's fine. Don't—"

Finn Hudson does not hear the rest of Mr. Shue's plea because he is already out the door and sprinting towards the other side of the school. He knows where Rachel's locker is and will start there.

He just hopes he isn't too late.

**-XxX-**

At seven-twenty, Noah "Puck" Puckerman knows what is happening. It is a hostile takeover orchestrated by the nerds and lower class students of McKinley High. He knew this moment was coming since the day he gave his first wedgie. Because all people who get treated like trash will someday stand up and say that they've had enough. History has proven it. The Revolt of 1942 in India. The Jelālī Revolts from the Ottoman Empire in the 16th and 17th centuries. And Puck knows all too well that History repeats itself. After all, the September 11th terrorist attacks that left him fatherless closely resembled the stealth attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941.

But just because it's happened before doesn't deter from the fact that hearing gunshots in such a close proximity is a chaotic and frightening feeling. Yes, frightening.

Because even though he is a complete and utter Badass, bullets will kill him. He is not an idiot. He is smart, and quickly imagines an escape route. He is well versed in the art of war and goes through every successful COD mission in his head. He knows when he should stay and fight, and when he should run.

And this is a run and done deal.

He just has to find Quinn Fabray.

The blond that often visits his dreams is carrying his child, and normally he wouldn't care so much. But he's felt something for Quinn ever since she started dating Finn. Maybe it was the fact that she was off limits at the time, but he _wanted_ her. And once he _got _her, he never _stopped_ wanting her.

So his route will take him past her locker. He knows full well that she won't be standing in front of it like she is every morning. But he'll check the adjoining classrooms for her. And when he finds her, he will get her and their child out and too safety. That is his job as a father.

Puck turns the corner to Quinn's hallway at a half crouch. The scene in front of him almost sends him to his knees. Karofsky is sprawled on the ground. Blood has pooled beneath him, but it's a much darker color than it should be. There is no oxygen in it and Puck automatically knows that his fellow footballer is dead. His gut clenches painfully because even though he didn't particularly _like_ Karofsky, he would never wish for something like this to happen. He was someone's _child_, and Puck has becomes well aware of what that means as of late.

There are other bodies, but he does not take the time to look at them and try to figure out who they are. It is not an insult to them; he just can't stand the fact that he might recognize one of them.

Puck tries to swallow past the lump in his throat and looks to his right. There, among the blood spattered lockers, is Quinn's. It's open, and there is a small pool of blood directly under it. Her books are on the floor, discarded to the linoleum in panic.

For a second he cannot look away. The scene that he keeps imagining in his head is ripping his heart apart. Quinn has been shot. It could be a graze. Or a through and through. Or she could be…

He clenches his teeth and curses, slamming his fist against the locker in a fit of rage. The bang from the impact echoes through the empty hallway, and Puck realizes just how quiet it is for that second. But almost a beat later, gunshots split the air, some coming from one direction, others in a completely opposite one.

It is in that moment, when he is surrounded by the bodies of his dead classmates, that he swears to himself, to the hallway, and to whoever is watching from up there, that he will find Quinn Fabray and get her to safety. No matter the situation or circumstance.

And after he's done his job as a friend and as a lover and as a father, he will come back and kill the person who has hurt her.

Because no one hurts his family and gets away with it.

* * *

**A\N:** On the subject of the new episode, I don't think I've teared up that much for a TV show, like, ever. I certainly enjoyed it. All I can say is _To Sire, With Love_ was amazing and _Bohemian Rhapsody_ mixed with Baby Beth's birth was incredible. Though I don't perticularly think Vocal Adrenaline should have gotten first. I mean, Jessie was the only one singing, and there was no heart. Yes, New Directions kind of suck at dancing lol but they have heart and power and are just great singers, especially together. I love the fact that more kinds got more solos and am surprised that I enjoyed Santana. I think her singing has done loads for her character. She's enjoying Glee club now. YAY! Anyways, tell me what you thought of the story and the episode in a review! I would love to agree or politley argue with anyone on the subject of the episode :)


	4. What if we all die young?

**A\N:** So many people have brought up similarities with this story and an episode of One Tree Hill. I, personally, have never seen the show before in my life. But I have a friend who watches it religiously and I told her the plot of my story and she told me two things. One was that it sounded like our sophomore year of high school where a kid did in fact bring a gun to school. And second, you guessed it, an episode of One Tree Hill. So she gave me the box set (season 3 if I'm not mistaken) and I watched the episode. Was I surprised? No. I was BEYOND surprised. I was slightly terrified, and then also kind of disgusted with myself. In no way shape or form am I trying to rip off the show. I have already edited all the stuff that I thought was the same feeling and I will make sure that I edit myself if it happens again, though there is a major plot key that is the same, but I really can't change that. It's one of the important storylines for this story.

I appreciate everyone that has reviewed. Seriously, it makes my day. Also, I'm going to be away for the next couple of weeks. I won't have a computer, but I will try to write so that when I come back, I'll crank some chapters out. As always, read and if you like it, review!

**

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Chapter Four:**

_What if we all die young?_

If someone were to tell Rachel Berry that she was about to experience the worst day of her life, odds are she'd smile slightly and disagree.

After all, she thinks that day has already happened. On more than one occasion, actually. Losing Jesse St. James to Vocal Adrenaline and then being eggs by said boyfriend was the worst thing that has ever happened to her in her lifetime. The depression that followed was even more troubling. Because the fact of the matter was, she had cared about Jesse. Love might not have been quite what it was, but there had been _something_ between them. And she knows it goes way passed trying to put her in a deep enough funk to not show well at Regionals. And then don't even get her started on Finn Hudson and the feelings she has for him. That is a whole 'nother complicated…_thing_.

But at seven twenty this morning, Jesse's betrayal is but a distant memory.

Because Rachel Berry nearly slams her head into the bathroom stall door when the sound of a gunshot jolts her body into a frantic dance of duck and cover. The sound alone is terrifying. Granted, the only gunshots she's heard in her life were from the movies. And the sound that she hears now sends her to her knees with an empty, loud, echoing force.

For a second she is frozen, too terrified to even breathe and she pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around her legs. Though she cannot see the door of the bathroom, her head is trained in that direction. She could be hallucinating; after all, it was only one—

—_Bang…Bang—Bang—Bang…Bang—Bang…_

One of her hands flies up to her mouth to stifle a scream. Tears frantically spill from the corners of her eyes and she hugs her knees to her chest for all she's worth. This isn't William McKinley High School. This is a bad dream. And Rachel needs to wake up. She needs to wake up _now_.

But when the screams of her fellow classmates split the air, Rachel realizes she isn't dreaming. More so, she realizes that when she entered the bathroom earlier that morning, Quinn Fabray had been standing at her locker, which was just outside.

The thought alone freezes her. Even though the two had never become _true_ friends, her stomach flips at the thought of anything bad happening to the blond. But for the love of her, Rachel can't find it in her to get to her feet. She is paralyzed and suddenly her frantic tears turn to ones of frustration. What kind of person is she to just sit there and cry?

_What are you gonna do?_ A voice in the back of her head says. _You can't help anyone if you're dead._

The voice has a point. But still, no one likes feeling helpless, let alone Rachel Berry.

So for what seems like hours, she sits against the wall in the handicapped bathroom stall and listens to the gunshots and the screams of her classmates. Never before has she heard such a deadly combination.

Shots.

Screams.

Silence.

But when she counts to one hundred twice without being interrupted by a shot, Rachel knows the shooter is gone. Whatever _gone_ means. The though doesn't jump start her legs, though. Getting to her feet is difficult and once she is up, her world tilts. She turns quickly and throws up her breakfast into the toilet. She didn't think she had a gag reflex. But apparently she does. Maybe she can develop it, like asthma or something.

Or maybe it's just the moment. Rachel is betting it's the latter instead of the former. The action still grosses her out and after she's done, she throws a couple of handfuls of water into her mouth from the sink. She wipes at her eyes with wet hands and realizes just how badly she is shaking.

"Calm down, Rachel. You can do this. Just calm down and think this through." She finds talking to herself relaxes her sometimes. But it isn't working now. It takes everything in her to take a step out of the bathroom and into the hallway. Once she it out, she nearly loses her breakfast again.

She has never been a fan of blood. Granted, she can handle it in small doses. But the scene that greets her in the hallway is a long way from a small dose. She recognizes Karofsky on the floor to her right. He is not moving and the hairs on the back of her neck are starting to stand on end. There are others, but she cannot identify them.

Suddenly, she realizes that she does not want to go through this alone. And she wants Finn Hudson to be standing next to her. She wants him to wrap his arms around her and tell her that everything will be alright. Because if he says it will, then she'll believe him. She needs his courage and certainty.

Thinking of Finn brings Quinn into her mind and she realizes that the blond is not among the fallen. Her locker is open, and there is blood everywhere, but Quinn _is not there_. Sighing with relief, Rachel swallows furiously and heads towards the choir room. She is faintly aware of Figgins voice over the PA system telling everyone to exit the building or get to a designated lockdown area. The choir room is the latter.

As she starts her journey, she is thankful for her change of taste in clothing. The white Chucks she is wear now are comfortable for the situation and she has long forgotten the days when she wore skirts. The jeans that hug her legs are free-moving and adjustable. Finally, after Jesse's departure, she has abandoned her animal print shirts for plain colored ones. And she rolls up the sleeves of her navy blue long-sleeve shirt in an attempt to cool herself down.

She moves at a half crouch and is trying to be as quiet as possible. Every few second or so, she will hear gunshots followed by screams. She makes sure to move in the _opposite_ direction of the sounds. Occasionally, she comes across a student or two who are running away. But they don't stop for her and she doesn't stop for them. There is only a silent conversation that passes between them when they lock eyes.

Rachel says: _Get out to safety._

And they say: _Don't go that way_.

But suddenly she finds that her detours have taken her farther from her goal. Along with her realization comes voices, and Rachel Berry is suddenly very, very still.

She flattens herself against the wall, and is inching along the white brick at a snail's pace. Slowly, she reaches her head around the corner she has come to. She cannot make out who it is because of the lockers lining the walls, but they are sitting on the ground. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Rachel knows she has seen the sweater that is tied around the person's calf before, and it is only when Miss. Pillsbury comes around the corner that she finally realizes who it is.

Taking a deep breath Rachel rounds the corner and listens intently as she approaches the two women.

"What?" Miss. Pillsbury stammers. "He's looking for _Rachel_?"

Rachel tilts her head and says, "Who's looking for me?"

The two women spin around so fast, Rachel fears their necks might snap. But the two women keep their heads and she suddenly realizes that tears are slipping from the corners of her eyes. She's just glad to see people she knows _alive_. "What the _hell_ is going on?" she whispers, her voice shaking and she wipes at her tears.

Emma Pillsbury eyes flash with uncertainty, though Rachel notices a small flame burning behind the fear. Quinn Fabray, on the other hand, looks just so _completely_ tired. Slowly, Rachel kneels next to the blond and looks at her calf. The sweater is soaked with blood, so much so that she is surprised that Quinn is still conscious, let alone moving.

"Oh my god, Quinn," Rachel shifts her eyes to the ex-Cheerios face. "Are you okay?"

Quinn offers a small smile, though it is laced with pain. "I've been better," she pants.

Rachel's smile is tight and she hesitantly places a hand on the blond's shoulder in comfort. "It's okay. We'll get you out of here."

Quinn nods and seems somewhat relieved, though her forehead is still creased in a sheet of sweat.

"We can't move her," Miss. Pillsbury interrupts, shaking her head. "We need to stay in this room and wait for the police to clear the building."

Rachel straightens and looks around. "Okay." She starts to get up, but Miss. Pillsbury grabs her arm.

"No," the guidance counselor says in a firm voice. "You aren't going anywhere except in this room."

"It's okay," Rachel says calmly. "I'm only going to see if anyone is close and needs help, okay? I'll be back in a second."

She locks eyes with Miss. Pillsbury for a moment and finally the guidance counselor blinks and nods her head. "Okay. Okay, you just stay close. I better be able to see you at all times."

Rachel nods and gets to her feet. Because while she will never be able to forget this day and the helplessness it brought, she will always, always know that when she had the chance to, she tried to help someone. And she can live with that.

Slowly, she creeps along the wall, looking once before she turns the corner onto the guidance hallway. There is a trail of blood, and Rachel knows that it is Quinn's. Again, she is overwhelmed by the amount of red substance that has left the small cheerleaders frame. It is truly a feat of willpower that Quinn Fabray is still moving of her own accord.

Movement catches Rachel's eyes and she shrinks back into the nook of a locked classroom door as a body turns the corner farther down the hallway. Rachel holds her breath and peeks around the frame, finding the staggering body of Suzy Pepper coming towards her.

The approaching brunette's right arm is hanging by her side, blood dripping from her fingertips. There is a small bullet hole visible in her right shoulder and Rachel leaves her hiding place and rushes forward.

"I can't believe he shot me…" Suzy mumbles, stunned.

"Don't talk," Rachel orders, putting the girls' none injured arm over her shoulder. Because the traumatized Suzy is being awfully loud, and even though Rachel doesn't think the shooter is near, that doesn't mean they can relax.

They make their way around the corner and onto the hallway where their hideout classroom is. Suddenly, the hairs on the back of Rachel's neck stand on end. Someone is behind them. Rachel spins quickly and kicks out.

Noah Puckerman goes to ground, clutching his shin in pain.

"What the _hell_ Berry!"

"Noah!" Rachel gasps. "Oh, I'm so sorry!"

Puck waves off her concern and staggers to his feet, "Yeah, yeah, it's fine." He takes in Rachel Berry and her passenger. "Oh, holy shit." His eyes grow wide at the sight of all the blood. "Are you okay?"

"Never better, Puckerman." Suzy mumbles.

"Follow us, Noah," Rachel turns and leads the two to the abandoned classroom. Miss Pillsbury is waiting for them, her face a pale white.

"I told you to stay close," she hisses, worried. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

Rachel smiles apologetically and leads Suzy and Puck into the classroom. Quinn is lying on the ground, her leg elevated and resting on a chair. Rachel leads Suzy to another chair as Puck rushes forwards and collapses next to Quinn.

"Oh thank _god_," he murmurs, resting his hand against her cheek. "I went to your locker. But you weren't there. So much blood. I followed it and kept thinking I was going to find you on the ground," he shakes his head. "On the ground…well, you know…"

Quinn smiles. "I'm fine."

Puck swallows furiously and shakes his head. He glances briefly to her leg and his jaw locks in fury. "I'll kill whoever did this to you."

Quinn rests a delicate hand on his clenched fist. "No, you won't."

Rachel watches, as if in a trance, as Puck laughs through his nose and shakes his head. He leans down and kisses Quinn's hand, then her forehead, and then rests his ear against her stomach. "It's okay, Beth, dads here now. Everything's going to be fine."

Rachel's heart beats painfully. She wants Finn to be next to her. She _needs_ Finn to be next to her.

"Who is it?" Puck asks softly. "Did you see?"

"Jacob Israel," Quinn says at the exact moment Suzy says, "Steven Murdock."

The room is silent; everyone processing what had just been said.

"There's more than _one_?" Rachel hisses.

Suzy's mouth hangs open, her eyes wide. After a moment of silence she says softly, "He actually did it."

"What are you talking about?" Puck asks, though his attention is solely on Quinn and her labored pants.

"I didn't think he would do it." Suzy Pepper shakes her head vigorously. "God, I thought he was just joking around."

Miss Pillsbury stands and walks over to the shaking Suzy. She sits down, but does not get any closer. There's too much blood, and she's already been down that road once today.

"Sweety, what do you mean?" She tries to keep her voice from shaking and preoccupies her hands with taking off her sweater and tying it around the girls bleeding shoulder.

Suzy wipes at her tears and looks to the guidance counselor. "A couple weeks ago, Jacob tells me that he's been thinking about doing something that will make people remember him. He said he had gotten four other people and that they were going to hold McKinley High hostage." She bursts into tears. "But you have to believe me; I _never_ thought he would actually do it. _Never._"

"You _knew_ this was going to happen?" Puck snarls. "And you didn't _tell_ anyone?"

"Who would have believed me?" Suzy snaps. She looks to Rachel, "You?" She turns to Puck and Quinn, "Or you two?"

Rachel looks away and tries to calm the beating of her heart. Her head is light and swimming with information. Jacob Israel is a shooter and so is Steven Murdock. There are at least two others.

"He's looking for you." Quinn says weakly.

Rachel is drawn back by the blond and she blinks at the ex-cheerios captain. "What?"

"Jacob Israel," Quinn pants. "He asked me if I…knew where you were…He's looking for _you_, Rachel."

Everyone in the room turns to her, and she is suddenly very uncomfortable. She runs through the facts again, adding that Jacob is looking for her. She remembers her journey from the bathroom. At one point she had come across a lockdown classroom, except the handle on the door was gone and everyone inside was dead. With that realization, she knows she must leave. Because she now knows that it was Jacob who shots those students in the classroom. He shot them because he was looking for _her_. If she stays here and he finds them, he'll do the exact same thing.

She takes a small step backwards and Miss. Pillsbury in suddenly on her feet. "Don't you dare take a step out of this room, Rachel."

"You don't understand," Rachel shakes her head. "Nothing can stop him if he really is looking for me. I can't stay here and put you all in danger."

"We'll lock the door," Miss. Pillsbury pleads.

Rachel shakes her head. "He'll just shoot the handle off. I saw a lockdown classroom and it was just…_death_." She swallows furiously and takes another step backwards. "I can't let that happen to you guys."

"No." Miss Pillsbury shakes her head and takes another step towards her.

"Puck, stop her," Quinn snaps, but for some reason, the man kneeling next to her is frozen, his eyes trained on the brunette in the doorway. He always saw Rachel Berry as a self-centered, attention seeking woman. But he realizes that in dire situations, she is a human being and a true friend.

He knows Rachel's not going to sit there and let trouble find her. So he is not surprised when she turns and runs out of the room, but that doesn't mean he wants her to do it.

"_Rachel!_" Miss Pillsbury yells.

"_Come back!_" Puck bellows, almost at the same time Quinn says, "_No!_"

It is nice to be wanted for once, and Rachel feels that if there was any day that she deserved their respect and understanding, it is today. Because she can't idly sit by knowing that a madman is out to get her. She will not knowingly endanger her friends for the sake of her own safety.

If someone were to tell Rachel Berry that she was about to experience the worst day of her life, odds are she'd smile slightly and disagree.

If someone were to tell her she was living her last day on Earth, she'd laugh at such an outlandish thought. She'd tell them that they were being even more dramatic than her, and that that was saying something.

But secretly, she would think about it. She would go through the scenario of her supposed 'last day on Earth' over and over in her head. She would think about it and realize that if she _were_ living her last day, she would want to spend it with the one person that matters to her most. Which means she wouldn't spend it with Jesse St. James or Shelby Cochran. She wouldn't spend it with her fathers. She certainly wouldn't spend it in a classroom with Miss. Pillsbury the guidance counselor, Suzy Pepper, Quinn Fabray and Noah Puckerman.

She would spend it with Finn Hudson, because she loves him.

And Rachel Berry doesn't think she has ever been as honest as that.


	5. And in the end we all know we only breat

**A\N:** I do apologize for the wait. I really have no excuses. I'm really not happy with this chapter, it took me forever to write and I don't think I got any of the characterization right. Though I did try to stray away from my usual comfort zone. Anyways, we'll see how it goes. AS always, read and review. But no flames please. You don't like it, don't read it lol.

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**Chapter Five:**

_And in the end we all know we only breathe for so long_

The moment after Finn Hudson escapes the choir room before anyone can stop him; Mr. Shue is closing the door and locking it swiftly. Kurt Hummel watches in silent shock as his potential brother-in-law rushes off to save the 'love of his life.' Kurt has become somewhat acceptant of Finn's decision about Rachel Berry, but has been secretly (and patiently) waiting for all of his love and support to be returned. It never occurred to the teen that the feelings might _never_ get returned.

"Mike, Matt, help me with the piano," Mr. Shue says quickly, and the two footballers move instantly towards the large black instrument, heaving it with a grunt towards the locked door.

"This isn't happening," Tina is shaking her head, crying softly. "This isn't happening. This isn't happening."

Artie is caught in an awkward attempt to calm his girlfriend, which is evident in his empty mutterings of, "Everything's going to be alright." His eyes, which are filled with so much fear, betray his words.

"Who would—" Mercedes, for the first time in her life, does not want to speak. "Who would do this?" She manages to get out through her uncooperative throat.

"Some sick freak," Santana snarls, wrapping her arms around Brittany, trying to calm the suddenly nervous blond.

"So finally standing up for yourself makes you a sick freak?"

The group of students turn to the forgotten body that had entered the choir room just seconds before Finn's exit.

Lauren Zizes is in the corner, eyes downcast.

There is a gun in her right hand.

And there is sudden, absolute, silence.

Lauren takes a step forward and raises the gun. Flinches attack the remaining Glee Club members. "Away from the door, please," she says evenly.

Mike, Matt and Mr. Shue retreat from the door with raised hands. They join the others with nervous glances.

"You did-didn't shoot anyone, di-did you, Lauren?" Tina's stutter has returned with a vengeance, though Kurt knows it is the situation that has triggered it.

He watches in utter amazement as Lauren Zizes shrugs. She looks so tired. So drained.

"I don't know," the AV nerd replies.

"You don't know or you don't _care_?" Santana shoots back. She is terrified, but still somehow manages to find the anger buried deep down.

"Would it matter which one now that it's already started?" Lauren sighs, "I'm already in this till the end."

"That doesn't have to be true," Mr. Shue takes a cautious step forward, raising his right hand slightly. He's always thinking about the student's wellbeing, but this time, Kurt knows that there is nothing he can do. "We don't know how bad this is," Mr. Shue swallows. "We don't know how bad your…_situation_ is."

"You want us to _lie_ for her, Mr. Shue?" Mike asks. "If we get out of this?"

"She's holding us hostage," Santana snaps. "She signed her one way ticket to hell the moment she stepped foot in this school with that gun."

Kurt silently agrees, though he can't seem to find his backbone. Deep down, he knows the feeling Lauren is giving off. There was a time when he almost gave up trying to fight back. After he admitted that he was gay, and his sexuality was out in the open, the names and the bullying finally got to him. He had come clean about who he was and people still wouldn't leave him alone. He just wanted to be accepted for who he was. But Kurt Hummel knows all too well that people fear what they do not understand.

"You think this is hell?" Lauren snarls, taking a threatening step forward. "Try living something like this _every_ day. The fear. The uncertainty of what might happen. Coming to this place every day was a burden."

"What do you mean?" Mr. Shue asks, clueless.

Lauren regards Mr. Shue, looking him up and down. "If you only knew what went on in your precious school, Schuester. What people whisper when a teacher's back is turned. The names. The insults." She pauses, thinking. Finally, she takes a deep breath and looks up. "But you want to know the worst part? It's being ignored. Having your existence go completely _unnoticed_. Have you ever felt worthless? Ever felt _invisible_?"

The room is silent. And suddenly, Kurt has found his backbone. Because Lauren Zizes thinks it's a good enough excuse to shoot up McKinley High because she didn't get enough _attention_.

"You're joking, right?" Kurt says in astonishment. He looks around, finds the eyes of his blinking Glee Club members. "You did this because people didn't _notice_ you enough?" He lets out an empty laugh, because he just can't believe it.

"Shut up twinkle toes," Lauren raises the gun slightly, though her hand is shaking.

Kurt laughs again. "Is that all you got?" He says evenly. "Please. Karofsky and his pea brain mind can come up with something more original than that."

"Do you think this is smart?" Lauren takes another step forward. "Pissing off the person with the gun?"

Kurt swallows. "You know," he whispers sadly, "I hoped you would have had a better excuse for this."

"An excuse?" Lauren bits out. "There is no excuse, there is only the truth. The people who called me names. Who pushed me. Who walked passed me with no recognition that I even existed. They _will_ know my name now."

"I feel sorry for you."

Kurt turns to the voice and finds Brittany looking up from her position in Santana's arms. Her eyes are blank, and she is as calm as one would be on a regular school day. He figures she can't fully comprehend what is happening. Still, he knows that she knows something is very wrong.

"What?" Lauren says in surprise, blinking.

"I know people think that I'm an idiot., and you know, I forget my middle name sometimes, so maybe I am. But I just find life so…complicated." She has a kind of dazed expression, one that makes it appear that she is thinking really, really hard. "_We_ make it complicated when it doesn't have to be," Brittany continues, and her next words are so brilliant, Kurt can't, for the life of him, understand where they've come from. "There is only one person in your life that should affect the way you live it, and that's _you_." The blond Cheerio gives a shrug. "It's as simple as that. It's always been as simple as that."

"Nothing's that simple." Lauren snaps.

"But that's only because we make it complicated." Brittany counters. "I think that if kids stopped worrying about what other people thought of them, then we would be so much happier. We complicated life with our insane need to be accepted. And complicated is…_confusing_."

Brittany might be the dumbest out of all of them, but Kurt finally realizes that she is the only one that truly understands life. Because she doesn't complicate it with unnecessary feelings of needing to be accepted. What happens, happens. People understand what they want to understand. Life is straightforward as we make it, and maybe, just maybe, that's the way it should be.

Kurt Hummel is still looking at Brittany when he speaks. "I used to be afraid of what other people thought of me. Back when I was still in the closet. But now," he turns to Lauren and straightens ever so slightly, "I realize that the only opinion that matters is what I think of myself. I don't care what you think of me. I don't care what Karofsky thinks of me. And that's all that matters." He takes a step forward and Lauren takes a step back.

"So if you think that shooting up this school is going to finally give you the control you wanted in your life, then you're wrong. Because later, when you're in jail, or wherever you end up, you'll think back on this day and realize that doing this didn't make anything any better. In the end, you'll realize that you let people decide who you were, and that you were never in control of your life to begin with. Because you cared too much about what other people thought of you."

"You're preaching to a broken record, Kurt Hummel," Lauren Zizes says softly. The gun is no longer raised, and again, she looks just so damn tired. Like she really doesn't want to be there. Kurt is confused. Lauren Zizes has a gun and there are shots being fired inside the building. But the only hostility she's shown is when she was verbally attacked. Her finger was never even on the trigger.

"I respect the way you think. Really, if I didn't care what other people thought of me, then I obviously wouldn't be here." She shrugs. "But I'm not that strong. I'm not like you Glee kids. Kids who don't care who each other are in comparison to the social structure of high school." She swallows and steels her eyes. "But you don't know me. You don't know my life, or how much control I have in it. This is the only option."

Kurt pauses briefly, taking in Lauren Zizes and her deflated, conquered figure. He knows that look in her eyes. And he finally understands why this situation seems so forced. Why her situation doesn't seem to make that much sense. Because Lauren Zizes isn't (possibly) killing students in McKinley High for herself. She's doing it for someone else.

"This is wrong," Kurt mumbles, working everything out in his head.

Lauren looks up, "What?"

"Who are you doing this for?" He asks suddenly. When Lauren takes a step back and her eyes grow wide, Kurt knows he is on the right track. "Is it for a boy?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," the AV nerd says firmly.

"I know that look in your eye, Lauren. Believe me; I see it every day in the mirror. You're in love with someone. And that someone forced you—"

"He didn't force me to do this!" She snaps, interrupting him. She snaps her mouth shut moments later.

Kurt has finally found something else besides straws to grasp at. He continues, "Okay. So maybe he didn't force you to do this. But he had some control over this decision. But Lauren, you have to realize that him telling you to go off and shoot up your high school was just a way to get rid of you."

"Shut up," she says. "That's not true."

"Lauren, he's not here," Kurt replies. "He told you to—"

"He _is_ here," She says, and there is this kind of, sort of smile twitching its way across her face. "He's doing this _with_ me."

The words slice through the students like a sword, and they suddenly realize that the situation just got much, _much_, worse.

"There's more than one," Mr. Shue manages to get out.

Lauren smiles. "There's four of us," she admits proudly. "Me. Steven Murdock—"

"Fuck," Mike hisses, "that kid's _insane_."

"Jacob Israel—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Artie waves his arms. "Jacob Israel is out there?"

"He's our," Lauren pauses and puts her next words into quotation marks, "'leader. Said he wanted to get revenge on some girl for standing him up too many times.'"

Kurt turns to his fellow friends and sees Mercedes work out exactly what he is thinking.

"Remember at sectionals when he replaced Finn?" The diva voiced out loud. "All he wanted to do was get into—"

"Rachel's pants." Tina finishes, realization dawning on her face. "He's going after Rachel?"

"Kurt," Santana whispers, "He's after _Rachel_."

Kurt visible swallows, understanding the full meaning behind Santana's words.

There is a sudden gunshot.

Kurt flinches and turns sharply towards the barricaded choir room door. For the lone shot did not come from Lauren Zizes' gun. It came from the hallway, and it is followed by the most anguished bellow the Glee kids have heard all day.

Something inside of Kurt sinks. He knows that voice. He knows that scream.

Behind them, Lauren whispers, "Maybe he found her."

And suddenly Kurt Hummel is horrifyingly reminded of what is at stake today.

**-XxX-**

Nine times out of ten, you can count on Finn Hudson to do the right thing or find a way out. At least, that's what his mother had put on all of his job applications. But now, he's realizing that he should have thought this through.

After all, rushing out into the hallway while people are shooting guns probably isn't the right thing to do, or the best way out of the current predicament. But upon hearing the gunshots, his only thoughts were of Rachel Berry. He has to find her. It is indescribable, how strongly he feels for her. What _is _it? It is something he can't figure out, but he needs to find her. She _has_ to be alright. She has to. She needs…

He thinks he should pray more often. Because the internal need for Rachel Berry to turn the hallway corner in front of him seems to unravel before his eyes.

One second he is alone, the next, Rachel is slinking around the hallway corner in front of him. She is crouched low, head turned to look behind her. She has pushed up her long sleeves and even from his distance; Finn can see that she's sweating.

She turns her head back around and he is suddenly frozen by her eyes. He never thought he'd see them again. She stops instantly, fear radiating off of her in waves. But Finn is too preoccupied with striding towards her to care if she's scared of him or not.

It must have been the surprise of seeing someone else that had frozen her, because as soon as she comprehends who he is, she is straightening and nearly running to him.

The instant she is in his arms, Finn loses himself. He pulls her close, buries his face into her shoulder and lets out a choked sigh. It sounds like a sob, but he doesn't care. Not about something as trivial as crying at a time like this. He'd cry a river if it meant they both got out of the building alive. But Finn Hudson knows that would be all too easy.

From his experience in video games and movie watching, he knows that this is the calm before the storm. Rarely in plots like this do the main characters get out right after they've found each other.

Rachel has buried her face in his chest, and is hugging him with exceptional strength. Finally, he seems content that she is actually there and lifts his head. She does the same and admits the smallest of smiles.

"I've been looking for you," she says.

"And you found me," he returns the smile.

He allows a moment of silence before he breaks eye contact and looks around. "We need to hide. Find a lockdown classroom or something."

"No!" She yelps, suddenly frightened again.

He scrunches his eyes in confusion. "What are you talking about? We have to hide. Get out of sight so we aren't walking targets."

"We have to get out of the school," is her only answer, and she is pulling him by the hand towards the hallway she has come from. "We can't hide in a classroom. Too easy to get into."

"We'll lock the door," he reassures. Silently, his subconscious voices its opinion that it does not like the fear Rachel is feeling even in his presence.

"Not enough." She says shortly. "I have to get you out of here."

He cracks a smile. "And here I thought I was the one saving you."

She stops and turns to face him, locking with his eyes. They stay like that for a small moment before Rachel reaches up and puts the palm of her hand against his cheek. "How 'bout we save each other and call it even?"

"You're compromising?" He asks jokingly.

"Drastic circumstances," she smiles, "call for drastic measures." She looks around and shudders slightly. "But how about you save me _outside_, okay?

She turns swiftly and starts down the hallway. He blinks once, smiles and strides after her.

They make their way towards the exit near the auditorium, crouched and on high alert. He is surprised and a little worried by how well Rachel is coping with the numerous dead bodies that they encounter. He seems more affected by them than her. Granted, he figures her only friends are in Glee club, and he knows for a fact that they are safe. So, really, she has nothing to worry about.

But something drops inside him every time he recognizes one of the fallen. Every person that he has come into contact with in his lifetime is a part of him. Most are not a very big pat, but they are still a part. Loss of life means something to Finn Hudson. Losing his father at such a young age did that to him. His mom says he wasn't even old enough to know the old man, but the loss is all the same. And he would never wish the heartache he feels every time he sees a picture of his old man onto someone.

They pass a classroom and Finn glances briefly into the open archway.

He stops in his tracks and suddenly understands why Rachel wants to get out of McKinley. Because the room he is looking into now is a tomb. The door handle has been shot off and there are seven dead bodies. Six students and a math teacher he faintly recognizes. This scene is the source of Rachel's fear, and now Finn understands completely.

He whispers a quick prayer and rushes to catch up with Rachel, who has just turned the corner in front of him. The next moment does not grace Finn in slow motion; it's the opposite, actually. He turns the corner at a jog—

A gunshot splits the air.

His body ducks and flinches out of instinct. He slides to a stop and instantly searches for the source of the earth shattering sound. Rachel is standing a few feet in front of him.

And Jacob Israel is standing a few feet in front of her.

The redheads hand is raised and there is a black object in it.

It feels as if Finn's blood has frozen in his veins. He can't pull in a breath because his chest is tight with shock. Jacob Israel holds a gun in his right hand.

For a moment, there is silence.

Then, Rachel is moving backwards—No. She's falling, Finn realizes in horror. She staggers for a second before her legs give out. Her back meets the linoleum with a muffled thud and he is too utterly afraid to move.

His eyes grow wide as her hands instantly go to her left side. He can see that her blue shirt is slowly, but surely, turning a deep purple. Her fingers, on the other hand, are flecked with dark red. She lets out a choked whimper, like the feeling when you've done too many consecutive sit-ups and can't breathe.

"…Finn…" her voice finds him through the raging ocean in his ears, "…get out of here…"

"_Rachel!"_

So far, Finn Hudson has been lucky enough to find a way out of all of his troubles.

But perhaps, now, the tenth time has caught up with him.


	6. How we survive is what makes us who we a

**A\N:** Again, I am terribly sorry about the wait. It took me forever and a day to crank this one out. And I still don't think I like it very much :/ Ehh, I might edit this thing later and figure out some new way to spin this, but we'll see. Anyway, as always, read and review! I like that you like to leave reviews about your thoughts and feelings about this story ;) (and please keep in mind this is not OTH :) It did not invent the concept of a school shooting)

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**Chapter Six:**

_How we survive is what makes us who we are_

Jesse St. James' life comes with a soundtrack. He doesn't particularly like this fact (though it is sometimes enjoyable singing about things), because whenever something happens, trivial or earth-shattering, he'll have a little annoying voice in his head crooning the words to a song that (according to Psychoanalysis Today) 'encapsulate all his relevant thoughts, feelings, emotions and sentiments at the time'. He's been around music all his life; he doesn't need a soundtrack outside of Vocal Adrenalin. But he has one:

Waking up: '4AM' by Lostprophets.

Breakfast: The song from the Tropicana juice ad.

Drive to school: Anything from Basshunter.

End of first period: 'I Can Hear the Bell(s)' from Hairspray.

Lunchtime: 'Milkshake' by Kelis.

And so on and so forth.

And at seven thirty on March the 24th, it is the same as always. Though the days unraveling circumstances greatly affect the type of song he hears in his head. As he races to McKinley High, the lyrics to Rascal Flats' 'What Hurts the Most' (self-explanatory because the almost relationship with Rachel Berry is still painfully coursing through his veins), and Lostprophets 'Rooftops (A Liberation broadcast)', (mostly because he wants to stand on the rooftops and scream his heart out) echo hauntingly through his mind.

When he turns the corner and spies McKinley in the distance, he is taken by surprise at how many service vehicles inhabit the crammed parking lot. Honestly, he doesn't know what he had expected to see. But now, when he pulls to a stop in between two S.W.A.T. buses, the situation hits him like a freight train.

He remembers, as if it had happened twenty years ago, the fateful day in which he and his fellow Vocal Adrenalin members had egged Rachel Berry. Now, he stands in the exact same spot as before. But Rachel is not standing in front of him with eyes filled with betrayal. And his friends are not behind him in support. He is surrounded by an overwhelming sense of panic and desperation that is not yet his own, and suddenly, Jesse St. James does not know what to do.

He walks past a wall of ambulances treating wounded students. His breath catches in his throat. There are _so_ many hurt and wounded. And with the images of destruction comes the soundtrack of loss. He has been blocking out the screams and cries of agony unconsciously, but now the sounds assault him with force.

His breath leaves him like a punch to the gut.

Because he knows that there are far too many McKinley kids around him who are hurt, bleeding, and in pain. And his belief that this moment would end peacefully is erased as a paramedic wheels a stretcher past him.

There is a black bag on the gurney.

And it is full.

And what scares him the most is the fact that the paramedic could be wheeling the body of Rachel Berry past him and he'd have no idea it was her.

With shaking legs he takes a couple of steps forward and almost breaks through the yellow police tape fencing off the high school. He runs his hands through his hair and looks around at the devastation. There are crying parents, terrified students, several news vans accompanied with reporters, and far too many police officers for him to identify the branches of government they work for.

He starts to lose feeling in his legs and his hands are shaking so badly, it makes his wrists hurt. And it is situations like these that he wishes never existed. Because when you're young you care about so much and so many of those things are unprotected.

When you're young, you never think it will happen to you.

But it is happening to Jesse St. James.

And he finally realizes that he really does care about the McKinley High Glee Club.

Because no matter how deep the rivalry is between New Directions and Vocal Adrenalin, no one deserved this. Because there's this voice that speaks within even the most arrogant of them, a voice that says this is _not right_. Because even the most competitive of them, however strong-headed, however school spirited, are still human. Still _fee_l. Still mourn the random death of innocents. Because when rivalries are broken by tragedy, they turn into just ordinary people—students—kids—_friends_.

He grabs the yellow caution tape in front of him to make sure it's real. To make sure that this is, in fact, happening. The plastic is hot against his palm and he looks around, sweat sliding down his neck.

It is chaos.

Pure fear.

And he realizes that this might be the end of the world as many people know it.

Suddenly, a microphone is shoved in his face, but he's too shocked to even realize that someone is suddenly talking to him.

"I'm here with Jesse St. James, captain of the nationally ranked Vocal Adrenalin. Can you tell me, Mr. James, why are you here?" He faintly recognizes the reporter from previous interviews during his countless wins at sectionals, and she almost has to scream the question at him for it to be heard over the surrounding noise.

He swallows. "What do you mean?" he manages to get out through his suddenly sore throat.

The blond reporter blinks at him and furrows his eyebrows. "You attend Carmel High, do you not?"

He nods numbly.

"School is still in session," she informs him. "Why did you come here, to McKinley? I've heard they're your hardest competition for the Regional title this year."

Like the beginning of a dream, he does not remember when or how he got in his car to come to McKinley. It might have been when Principle Anderson had come over the PA system, informing the entire student body of Carmel High of the situation at McKinley.

And yet he doesn't care so much about missing school. He recognizes many of the kids around him to be students of Carmel. The thing that he does care about is that this woman is bringing up something as trivial as Regionals at a time like this. Something as trivial as a school rivalry.

For a moment he stares at her in utter surprise. It is only when she lifts and eyebrow expectantly and moves the microphone an inch closer to his face does he speak with so much venom, he even surprises himself. "Get that fucking thing out of my face," he growls, steeling his eyes.

She flinches at his tone and drops the microphone slowly. "Maybe another time, then," she mumbles and slinks away, off to interview another hysterical parent.

Jesse St. James swallows furiously and scans the crowd, dread slowly crawling up his spine. He does not see a single New Direction's member. He knows that doesn't mean anything. They could be on the other side of the school for all he knows. But there's this little voice in the back of his mind. And it is not echoing lyrics to him. It is simply telling him something is not right.

Solemnly, he turns his eyes back to the limestone building of McKinley High.

He stands there, amongst the crying mothers and fathers and wonders how a day like this could possibly get any worse.

But secretly he knows tragedy has been known to top itself in seconds.

**-XxX-**

Finn Hudson is absolutely paralyzed.

His knees are weak.

His hands are shaking.

He can't breathe.

And it's because Rachel Berry is on the floor in front of him, blood dripping from her side to the white linoleum.

There is an ocean raging inside Finn's head, which he finds oddly fitting because Rachel is gasping for air like a fish out of water. He blinks and the situation is still the same. Finally, when an eternity passes in semi-silence, he opens his mouth.

"_Rachel!_"

It feels like he hasn't used his throat in ages, and Rachel's name comes out raw and shaky, his voice echoing through the deserted hallway. She bends her head back in a short, jerking motion to look at him, like she can't fully control her movements anymore. Her eyes, which he has come to love so much, are covered halfway by her lids. They've drooped in her exhaustion. Still, Finn sees the fear. The desperation. The pain.

He takes a step forward—

Something slams into his left shin. He goes to ground with a curse of pain, grabbing at the throbbing limb. Suddenly there is blood running through his fingers. Hot and sticky and unreal.

"If you get up, Hudson, you'll have another one coming at you."

He looks up in surprise, because the voice that addresses him now cannot possibly belong to Jacob Israel. It is cold and hard and so absent of regret. This man is confident, in control, and _fully_ aware of what he is doing.

"Jacob," Finn manages to find his voice. "What are you doing?"

"What am I doing?" the redhead repeats blankly with a blink. "I'm shooting people, Finn. I thought that was obvious."

Finn's blood covered hand twitches just a tiny bit. He may be frightened, but Jacob has struck a nerve with his nonchalance. The redhead doesn't have the right to end kids' lives and not show an ounce of remorse while doing it. No one deserves to be this calm in such a devastating situation.

"_Why?_" Finn asks through a locked jaw.

To his surprise, Jacob seems to contemplate the answer. The boy with glasses looks up and scratches his temple with the barrel of his handgun. "Because I'm tired of it," he answers finally with a sigh, and he sounds so much older than he should.

"Tired of what?" Finn keeps talking, but he doesn't know why he's trying to stall. Clearly Jacob Israel has made up his mind.

"Everything," Jacob answers immediately. "I'm tired of going home to parents who don't care." He looks around the white school hallway with distant eyes, like he's already gone. "I'm tired of coming to this god forsaken place everyday just to get thrown into a dumpster." He shoots Finn a glare before continuing, "I'm tired of being ignored. Of being rejected." He looks to Rachel's prone body and pauses for a moment. When Jacob lifts his head, Finn is taken aback at how _sad _the redhead looks.

With a quiet voice, Jacob asks, "Why do I have to be miserable when everyone else around me seems to be so happy?"

"This is just four years of your life, man," Finn whispers, "You could have made do with the future. But now? This is something that will truly haunt you forever."

"You think I was going to college? That I had a _decent_ future?" Jacob laughs sadly. "You know my university took away my scholarship? They said that I still had admissions, but that because of the economy, my specific scholarship had to be terminated so the money could go towards the sports program." He locks his jaw in fury, "People like _you_, Finn, took away my future." Again, his dark eyes flash towards Rachel, "So I'm taking away yours."

Finn's eyes widen in horror and he swallows furiously. "I have to get her out of here, Jacob."

In a split second the redheads hand tightens around the gun and he steps forward. "_You_ aren't taking her _anywhere_," he snarls. "As I said before, if you try to save her, I will _end_ you."

"She's losing too much blood, Jacob." When the redhead offers a small shrug of his shoulders, Finn balls his fists and slams them to the floor in anger. "You think you can just get away with this? You think you have _problems_?" he whispers in a rage filled voice. "I say so does the whole fucking world."

"_Problems_?" Jacob mocks. "People like you don't have problems. People like you have everything you've ever wanted."

"Everything includes an ex-girlfriend that is pregnant, but not with my child. A father that I can only remember through pictures and a high school social structure that wants my blood because I joined the Glee club."

"That is unfortunate," Jacob admits, and there is some sort of feeling passing between Jacobs gaze. Finn does not know what it is, but it is not anger or hostility. "But your friend's lives are untouchable," Jacob continues, and the emotion that was there a second before is gone. "Social immortality is just one of the perks of being popular."

Finn shakes his head and lets out a sad laugh. "If you only knew the people you're generalizing," he sighs. "Quinn got kicked out of her house the moment her parents found out she was pregnant. Pucks father was killed in 9/11. Santana can't fully feel much of any emotion and Brittany secretly feels enough for the both of them, which is why I think she is the way she is. Matt is just like every other football player, he has no identity to call his own and Mike is too self-conscious to dance, to do the thing he loves to do, outside of his own room."

He pauses and looks to Jacob, who doesn't quite seem all that interested. Still, there is a little glint of the redhead's eye that says he is surprised by the information Finn is divulging. A flash of the emotion Finn had seen earlier. Regret? Guilt? Uncertainty? Fear? Any one of those emotions Finn can work with. He just hopes Jacob is more human than he thinks he is. There's a chink in the deranged boy's armor, so Finn starts chipping away.

"Kurt is gay and has to face the full force of people who don't understand what that means. Tina stutters because it makes people leave her alone. Artie was in a car crash when he was six and will probably never walk again. Mercedes get's laughed at because of her weight, and Rachel," Finn swallows and looks to his girlfriend, who has suddenly lifted her head to look at him. "Rachel gets slushied every day because people don't know who she really is. Because all people see is who she is on the outside. They see her automatic defense against people who don't understand her, and they think that that's good enough to condemn her."

There is silence and Finn can't seem to prey his eyes away from Rachel. He figures if this is his last day on earth, then there was no place he'd rather be than right there. He's lived his life. It's been good, eventful and meeting Rachel Berry has changed him.

If this had happened sooner, things would have gone much differently. He would have run the other way and not looked back. But now, he figures that giving in to someone like Jacob Israel would mean the end of everything.

Finn has worked too hard to be the man he is today. And punks like Jacob, kids who give in, who act stupidly on impulse, are just quitters. Life is never going to be easy and Finn Hudson isn't going to let a life or death situation change the way he feels. He will not leave Rachel there to die to save his own skin.

He will stay with her, and if that means the end of his life, then so be it.

"What's the point in telling me this?" Jacob asks, and there is serious curiosity lingering in his voice. "Other than making me realize that I should have put you all out of your misery so much sooner."

"_What is your problem?_" Finn snarls. "What could have possibly made you like this, Jacob? We're kids, man. We have our whole lives to figure out who we are. And this isn't you, man."

"_This isn't me?_" Jacob snaps. "You don't even _know_ me, Finn." He steps back and points to his own chest with the gun. "You want to know who knows me? _I do_. And I know that there's no point in becoming someone no one else will remember."

Finn blinks. "What does being remembered have to do with this?"

"It has _everything_ to do with it." Jacob says. "Everyone is afraid that they will be forgotten, Finn. Even you. It's why we are who we are."

Finn blinks, contemplating the answer. "I don't care if people remember me," he admits.

"Sure you do," the redhead smiles. "Why else would you join Glee club?"

Again, Finn does not know what to say. He knows that he joined Glee club because it made him happy. "I did it because I wanted to." But then again, he was sort of, kind of, forced into joining Glee. He still doesn't know where the pot came from, but the options that Mr. Shue presented to him at the time weren't very reasonable. He chose Glee because it wasn't going to show on his permanent record and therefore he wouldn't disappoint his mom. He didn't want to be _remembered_ as the son who screwed up.

And suddenly, Finn Hudson realizes that being remembered has everything to do with this day.

Jacob lets out a mock of laughter and Finn blinks, returning to the moment.

"You joined Glee because it got you attention. Granted," the redhead shifts his head this way and that, contemplating. "Whether that attention was good or bad is up for interpretation at the moment."

Finn is silent.

"You see," Jacob continues, "joining Glee Club will get you into the history books. The jock that turned into a show man. You're the man that will take New Directions to Regionals. But soon you'll graduate. People will forget your face. They won't remember your smile or your voice and you will be lost among the people of this world." A feral grin spreads across his face. "But me? Oh, my actions today will secure me a page in the history books. For sure."

"And today will make you a monster." Finn snarls.

There is the smallest and quickest flash of sadness in Jacob's eyes. But it is gone before Finn can act on it.

"When will you learn that that's the only type of person history remembers?" Jacob counters, and his eyes linger on Finn for a second before he turns and starts to pace. "We remember dictators and assassins. We remember the violence and the terrible things that have happened to good people. Face it Finn, the only thing that interests the public is chaos and destruction." He stops and smiles. "Well, I'm giving them both."

"When did you get so lost, man?" Finn asks in a soft voice. "You seemed so chill at all the Celibacy club meetings, remember?" Finn catches Jacob's eyes as they flash again. It is remembrance of what used to be, Finn now realizes. He knows Jacob misses what used to be. He misses it desperately. "Or when you filled in for me at sectionals?" Finn licks his suddenly dry lips, "You know, I never thanked you for that."

"Stop it." Jacob whispers.

"Without you," Finn continues, "we would have never even qualified for Regionals. Without you, Glee would not exist now." And Finn says the next words with such sincerity; he hopes they break through the wall of hate surrounding Jacob Israel's heart.

Because _it is_ all about being remembered.

It's just that Jacob never really looked at the whole picture.

"You were a part of Glee, Jacob. It doesn't matter how long or short your presence was because _you_ helped us. We will remember you because, without you, we would have never gotten the chance to be the kids we are today." Finn sighs deeply, suddenly noticing the tremble of the gun in Jacob's hand. "So, thank you, Jacob, for letting us Glee Kids be who we are."

There is silence.

And Finn finally sees it. There is a little flash of regret. And edge of panic. And Finn can practically read the uncertainty written across Jacob's forehead. The gun is not longer threatening to put a hole in either Rachel or Finn, finger off the trigger.

But Finn's ears pop with the cock of a gun and he can suddenly hear _everything_. Rachel is panting softly, still hanging on. Jacob's chest is heaving with deep breaths, his gun forgotten.

And there are soft footsteps behind them.

A throat clears in the distance and Finn turns his head ever so slightly.

Teri Schuester is behind him at the end of the hallway. And there is a gun in her hand.

The ex-wife is regarding the group with an air of curiosity. She looks to Rachel but is unconcerned with the blood on the floor next to the teen. She twitches her nose at Finn, like she's got an itch she doesn't seem to want to scratch and then her eyes fall on Jacob.

"Oh, you actually did it." Her voice is dripping with fake sweetness, like a housewife lying politely to your face. She leans to the side slightly, seeming to get a better look at Rachel. "But you've come up short. She's still breathing."

"Get out of here," Jacob orders, and to Finn's surprise, the ex-wife straightens like she's been insulted and starts to walk away.

She disappears into another hallway, but pokes her head back out seconds later. "You haven't seen that home-wrecking slut anywhere, have you Jacob?"

She might as well have been asking where the peas were. The nonchalance and sweetness were making Finn's stomach roll. What was up with the people in this school?

Jacob grunts and Teri rolls her eyes with a huff, disappearing again.

Finn turns back to Jacob, but before he can voice anything, Rachel does.

"…quinn…" she gasps.

Finn looks to Jacob with desperate eyes, pleading. To his complete and utter surprise, the redhead inclines his head, eyes slightly wide. In shock, maybe. He is still shaken by Finns words.

Finn closes the space between him and Rachel in seconds, his aching shin forgotten. He hauls her up into his arms and strokes her cheek lightly. "What?" he asks in a soft voice.

She swallows, blinking up at him. "Quinn," she repeats through clenched teeth, "with…Miss. Pillsbury…Puck too."

Finn freezes.

Teri Schuester is looking for Emma Pillsbury, who is with Quinn Fabray and Puck, according to Rachel Berry. Finn tightens his hold on the girl in his arms and sighs deeply. There is a need to go find Quinn, to make sure that she's okay. But he also swore to himself earlier that he would not leave Rachel. And he won't.

"It's okay," he soothes, "Puck is with her."

"_Finn_," she says desperately.

He kisses her forehead. "I can't worry about Quinn anymore because I have to worry about _you_."

"-I screwed this up."

Finn looks up, and suddenly realizes that he has forgotten all about Jacob Israel. Still, the ferocity is gone from the boy. He still seems angry, but being told that he was a part of something seems to truly shake him.

Jacob Israel licks his lips, raises his gun, and flicks it, like he's shooing away a small animal. "Get out of here."

Finn regards the boy in front of him with disbelief.

"The damage is done, Finn. You don't need to be in here when this thing ends."

"Wh—What?" Finns stutters. "You're letting us go?"

Jacob shakes his head slowly. "You know, I really thought I had this thing figured out. I thought I knew why I was doing this." He looks up and his eyes are filled with regret. "But I didn't expect you, Finn. I didn't expect this."

He sighs and continues, "Get out of here, Finn. And take her with you." He inclines his head ever so slightly, a silent goodbye. And though the boy doesn't say it out loud, Finn can see the apology. "You will remember me, if only because of this day and this moment. I still have to end this. The world still needs its Villain."

Jacob Israel takes a step back and then vanishes around the corner.

Finn Hudson sits in silence with Rachel Berry in his arms. It is safe to say both of them are stunned and too utterly shocked to move. And though he is fully aware the blood on his clothes is not his own and the fact that his girlfriend might quite possibly be bleeding out in his arms, that is not what truly scares him. Because the most terrifying thing that Finn Hudson has come across today is Jacob Israel and his understanding that he will always be the bad guy. That, no matter what happens; some people just can't be saved.

And Finn Hudson realizes that when Jacob Israel woke up this morning and entered McKinley High he knew that, no matter what happened in between the hallways, he wasn't going to leave the building alive.


End file.
